


Busted

by script_nef



Series: Requests [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Karaoke, Secrets are unveiled, Tsukki takes care of you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/script_nef/pseuds/script_nef
Summary: Tsukishima never knew you could sing so well
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Reader
Series: Requests [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869067
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	Busted

**Author's Note:**

> **Request** : Hello!! Can I please request a scenario/short fic where Tsukishima has to go pick up his girlfriend from “Girl’s Night” at the karaoke bar? When he gets there his gf is drunk, dur, BUT turns out she can sing like really really good. For a moment he’s utterly speechless but he takes really good care of her and asks about her singing the next day? Maybe she can play dumb about it saying she really can’t but too late he knows the power she holds. Sorry if that was a weird req but tysm in advance!!
> 
> Okay so first things first, this is a very cute request and not weird at all!  
> Second thing is that I actually have no idea what a karaoke bar is so I searched it up. And it turns out to be a regular bar with like a little stage so people to sing on? Like that scene from The Good Place? I don’t know if you meant that one but I wrote it based on that, hope that’s fine! :)  
> Third, uhhhh you asked for a short fic and I uh well it’s not really all that short so sorry about that.

Tsukishima doesn’t really like it when you go out for “Girls’ Night”s all that much. He’s glad you have quality time with your friends and burn off the stress from your work, but he often wonders if bars are the best place. 

It’s probably because of his aversion to alcohol. And drunk people. If you also add in the fact that your favourite venue just so happens to be a _karaoke_ bar, of all things, he would never fathom the idea of stepping a foot into it unless his life was on the line.

And yet, here he is, slipping into the godforsaken place at 11:30 pm on a work night.

His brows immediately crease as a drunk couple makes out right next to the entrance and expertly swerves past them. The place is filled with groups and couples in similar positions, just climbing over each other in their inebriated states without a care for others’ gazes. It’s amazing what alcohol can do and he sincerely hopes you’re being smart about your intake for the night.

That hope is swiftly crushed as you teeter onto the small karaoke stage with the melody of your favourite song blaring in the background. Your face is what could only be described as crimson to the point he can’t tell where your dress ends and your skin starts. You sway a bit on stage like you’re trying to balance yourself on a ship while there’s a tidal wave happening and Tsukishima can practically predict what’s going to happen next.

So he makes his way to you as fast as he can so that you won’t have an embarrassing memory to wake up to tomorrow morning. He doesn’t even understand why you insist on this karaoke bar when there’s a very high chance of you getting drunk and singing in front of literal strangers—and some friends—when you don’t even like singing in front of him. You occasionally hum while lazing around the house but never sang, claiming that your voice was horrible and also unfortunately tone-deaf. There was a stare-down when you said that because if you were _actually_ tone-deaf, then you wouldn’t be nailing every note in your hums. But he let it go because you turned red and pattered off. 

He’s just about there when you finally open your mouth to start singing, and he can’t help to freeze completely on the spot.

Your voice is beyond amazing. 

It rings out loud and clear throughout the room, forcing everyone to direct their attention to you. It’s like they’re entranced at the performance, and they have a very good reason to. It sounds like you’re pouring your heart and soul into this one song, determined to broadcast it to the best of your abilities. And the quality of it means you’ve practised this before. A _lot_. 

He stands there, speechless and dumbstruck, eyes trained on you until the song slowly fades away. The room explodes with cheers and applauds, and someone chants for an encore. You give a shaky bow with a bright smile and stumble off the stage right into Tsukishima’s awaiting arms. You mutter an apology and try to free yourself from his grasp, but stop struggling as soon as you see his face.

“Tsukki! Wha… watchu you doin’ here? You have the—the thing with the weird bones tomorrow!”

“Yes, I have my work with my museum tomorrow and yet I’m here for you. Come on, let’s go home.”

“Home! Yes, yes, fwoof. Pushy bed. It’s going to eat me!”

“I have literally no idea what you’re saying but I hope you remember this tomorrow so I can have something to embarrass you with. Say goodbye to your friends.” Your arms sway pathetically in the air as you mumble out something which sounds like but is dubiously related to “Bye now! The beddie are waiting me!” You never make sense when you’re drunk.

He holds you steady while you walk back home, careful of your stumbling steps. Just as he’s about to question you about the singing and why you’ve never sung in front of him, you slump onto his side, eyes closed and off to dreamland. Tsukishima sighs in soft exasperation and carries you home, glad that the venue is relatively close to your shared house.

Regaining some semblance of consciousness when he’s unlocking the house, you flail out of his grip and stomp into the house. It seems like you’re going straight to bed but he stops you to remind you of your shoes, makeup, clothes, brushing your teeth and drinking at least five cups of water to avoid a hangover. Thankfully you finish the first four, not without pouting and whispering nonsense the entire time, but tap out after 2 glasses.

Once in bed, you poke your head out from the blanket burrito you constructed yourself and give him a peck on the lips. “Thank you… pointy-nose. I have the bestest giraffe in the world. Nighty night Mr Moon.”

“Yes well, I wish I can say the same if my girlfriend wasn’t drunk half out of her mind, calling me weird nicknames and keeping things from me. Why didn’t you tell me you could sing so well?” You would normally have blushed and squeaked out an explanation, but you’re knocked out again. Tsukishima sighs once more and cages you in his arm, filing the interrogation away in his head for tomorrow morning. He assumes the headache of combined with the embarrassing memories of this night will make it easy for you to tell the truth.  
  


* * *

  
“My head hurts…” This is the first thing that greets Tsukishima when he wakes up. A small whining voice from his chest squiggling around and complaining. “Tsukki… ‘m dying…”

“Humans don’t die that easily. You’re annoyingly tenacious.” That earns a weak slap on the arm. “Fine, let’s wake up. You need to drink some more water and eat something.” You don’t budge at all, so he has to carry you again to the kitchen while you whine about being stolen from warmth and comfort.

After forcing two cups of water and a banana down your throat, Tsukishima focuses on making himself a breakfast at the ungodly time of 5 am. Another annoying habit you have is waking up early after a drink-fest even though literally every other drunk sleeps in.

“Mmm… Thanks. You’re the best…” You mumble out while chewing on another banana, eyes drooping down like you’re about to fall asleep again. “I won’t ever drink that much again, I promise…”

“Oh no, but then how will you gain the confidence to sing in front of strangers when you haven’t ever sung in front of me, your boyfriend? Under the pretence of a ‘bad voice’?” You’re the one that freezes now, like a deer caught in headlights. Your eyes are wide and quaking slightly, to his intense amusement, no doubt trying to remember the events of last night. 

He stares right back, an eyebrow raised as if to say “what kind of an excuse are you going to give?” but in the most unimpressed way possible. Your eyes bounce around to corners of the house while expertly avoiding him, until you finally settle on a decision.

Silence takes over the house. The chair you were sitting on makes a horrible screeching noise as you bolt out of it, hightailing to the bedroom in order to find a hole to crawl into and die in. Just as you’re about to enter, an arm slams right in front of you and effectively cuts you off from escaping this situation. 

Tsukishima traps you in his arms, head leaning down to lightly bump his forehead against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me you could sing so well?” This position is the best when trying to pry information out of you because apparently, being surrounded by his form makes you weak and susceptible. Sure enough, red takes over your face again and stutters spill out.

“I just— I’m just really embarrassed singing in front of you because you told me you don’t like it when people sing along to songs and I— I thought it would bother you! It’s not like I was hiding the fact, it’s more li—” Your further ramblings are cut off as Tsukishima presses his lips to yours for a quick peck.

“It’s fine if it’s you. At least you don’t sound like a monkey howling in the dead of the night, unlike _some_ people.” That earns a laugh out of you and he pulls you back into the kitchen. “Now, let’s see what else you’ve been keeping a secret from me.”


End file.
